Pins and Needles
by Mephalas-Web
Summary: Needle believes she is dying; in order to achieve one of her goals before she goes, she confesses her love for Fenris on her deathbed. Only then she doesn't die.
1. Confession

**A/N: Hello there, this mini fic was only intended originally to be 1 or 2 chapters but I just kept writing and it ended up being 3; and they are faaaairly long I'm not gonna lie. I'll release 1 each time I update Quintessential and if you do read that fic don't worry, me posting this won't delay that being updated.**

 **As a little background info my OC in this is an ex-slave, her, her sister and some children were being transported through Kirkwall when they were rescued by Hawke and his little troupe. At this point her sister is dead, as are the children that were with them...I was going to make a full fic about her but this was just much easier.**

 _ **Enjoy.**_

* * *

Warmth spilled forth from her wounds even as she killed the last of them; her blade, thin and sharp through the soft part of his skull, beneath his chin – almost instant death. Even as she fell to her knees, unable to stand any longer she couldn't help but feel victorious; she had come to conquer without them, come to prove that she deserved her place as one of Hawke's companions…that she could hold her own in battle just as the rest of them could. That she did not need Fenris there as her ever present, ghostly bodyguard.

As she lay there slowly bleeding out, able to stare at nothing but the dark, cavernous ceiling high above, Needle cursed herself for being a fool. One lone girl, barely 5 ft tall was no match for a heavily armed group of Tevinter slavers. Or maybe she _was_ a match for them, as they now all lay about her in various mutilated states; all very much dead, though truth be told it had never been part of the plan to die _with them_. It was an odd feeling to be certain, she did not feel any pain really, she just felt weak; too weak to move or speak, too weak to keep her eyes open for much longer. What was she keeping them open for anyway, to take in the charmingly primitive scenery around her? Darkness with a touch of smog. The thought made her snort in bitter amusement and she let her eyes close. They would be angry, she was certain; Fenris would be _livid_ with her but at least she wouldn't have to deal with his murderous rage; after all she'd be dead soon.

Dead.

The thought pained her, there had been so much she had still wanted to achieve! Avenging Lilith, going sailing with Isabela – when she finally acquired a ship – beating Varric at wicked grace…confessing to a certain white-haired, prickly elf how she felt about him. Now she would have none of that, her life squandered in a foolhardy moment of reckless abandonment.

It was strange, never had the ground felt so comfortable in her life; so warm, so welcoming, as good as any bed after a long days fighting. As Needle let out one final, weak sigh she heard something.

It was not loud, but it was _something._

And it was getting closer.

Though her entire being screamed at her for rest, to give in at last to the welcoming fatigue that was rapidly swallowing her, curiosity would not allow it. And if nothing else, Needle was always curious.

"…can't be far now." Voices, definitely voices; her heart suddenly sped up and she strained her ears to hear more. "Just follow the trail of bodies Hawke, our little Needle did a number on these guys." Varric and Hawke! They had come for her; she knew they would…though they were a tad too late, there was little they could do now. Needle was beyond their help.

"So she did, she hates slavers almost as much as you." Hawke's voice was nearby, but who was he talking to? Varric had no love for slavers, but his hatred of them was not an integral part of his personality. Fenris. It _had to be_! Her beautiful broody elf had come after her as well.

"Feeeee…" Needle tried her best to call out, still lacking the strength to open her eyes; unfortunately the noise she made was more of a choking gurgle rather than the name she had been trying to call.

"Wait, did you hear that?" Anders was with them as well it seemed; a cosy little family outing and she was missing all the fun. "Needle?" Once again she tried to respond but only succeeded in making yet another disgusting choking sound; but it was enough. "I think I see her!" Footsteps rushed towards her.

"Shit…" Varric's voice echoed clearly through the cavern; evidently she looked as terrible as she felt. "Poor kid…" There was movement around her, and even with her eyes closed she was suddenly very aware of a presence kneeling by her side.

"What do you think Anders?" Hawke's voice wavered as he asked the question, for once the sarcasm and wit wasn't present as he expected the worst.

"I…will do what I can; though I'm not sure how conscious she is." Oh Needle was conscious, she was laid there slowly bleeding out into the dirt listening to the entire exchange like an outsider. As if she wasn't the one they were talking about.

"Needle." One voice cut through the rest like glass, the deep, growly voice she had been hoping beyond hope to hear again. "Look at me." It wasn't a request it was a command, and she couldn't refuse - exhausted as she was; for that voice and the promise of more she opened her eyes. It was dark and blurry, indeed she wasn't even sure what she was looking at for the most part really, however his form stood out like a sore thumb in the darkness, clear to her as day.

"…Fenris." His name was a sigh of relief on her lips, she suddenly felt a hand on her forehead but she knew it was not his. Fenris did not like too much physical contact.

"She's still conscious, that's good…" Anders spoke again, but she kept her gaze fixed on Fenris; in fact she was vaguely aware of more voices, the others were speaking too but she held his gaze and ignored it all. The very sight of that stern, miserable face meant that she could at least die happily…and if she was going to die, she might as well cross one of her goals from her list before she went.

"Fenris…I…" A finger to her lips cut her off and she turned towards the offending hand with a look of pure, delusional aggravation.

"Needle you shouldn't talk right now." Though Anders voice was soft, and she knew he was probably right for some reason it just annoyed her. Didn't he understand that if she didn't speak now she probably wouldn't get another chance? When he removed his finger from her lips she started again, panicking a little as she felt a numbness spreading through her steadily from her feet upwards; death was descending.

"Fen, listen, I need you to listen." Her vision was blurring but she knew he was looking, "I'm s-so sorry, I never should have come here alone…" Even in her current state, his glare was visible; evidently he agreed with her. "But I have to tell you now. I…have to…" The numbness had spread through her midriff now, and she no longer had control over her fingers; she had wished to touch his face as she confessed, surely such an affectionate action was acceptable on her deathbed. But the numbness was spreading too fast, she felt it crawl up her chest and reach her throat; she wanted to cry in frustration. "I love you." She managed to croak. A gratified smile spread across her face at the declaration, and now it was said Needle finally gave it to the numbness consuming her and, at last, allowed herself to be swallowed by darkness.

* * *

The very first thing Needle was aware of was the cocoon of warmth around her; so safe and comforting like a mother's womb. Idly she wondered if she was being reborn, she had never really believed in The Maker – nor any of the elven gods – but if she was being reincarnated then perhaps in this life she'd swear by religion. Though she was warm she couldn't feel much else, she could not feel any part of her body nor could she move it; Needle began to doubt she even had a body, she just appeared to be some sort of _existence_ , present and conscious but not really anything in particular. There was a constant _noise_ though, a chronic mumble that at times got louder but never any clearer nor tangible.

How long she was in that state she did not know, to her it seemed like an eternity but in reality it was probably only a few days. It was sudden, the sensation that crept along her body; removing the numbness that prevented her from feeling – at first it was a pleasant tingle but before long it transformed into a much less pleasant sting. The sting ate away at extremities and she didn't know what to do to make it stop – to make it go _away_ and for the comforting warmth to return; but that was then she learned she could move. It wasn't much, just the occasional twitch of a finger or a toe but it was definite movement, and each time she managed it she could have sworn the chronic mumble peaked louder; almost in encouragement.

At some point the mumbles she heard became actual words; abstract voices and words she still couldn't quite understand. Was she being born? At some point soon would she be pushed forth from some poor unsuspecting woman's birth canal and be reborn in a sea of blood and confusion? Needle hoped not, she didn't rejoice at the idea of spending the first few years of her life as a fully conscious vegetable, completely reliant on everyone around her. Hell she had gone into that blasted cave and murdered all those slavers hoping to achieve the opposite! For her to be reborn now would be a _cruel_ twist of fate.

One voice was becoming clearer than the rest, every so often she would catch a word or two; it became somewhat of a game since she didn't exactly have anything better to do. "…hope you…hear…kid, we need…wake up." The voice was familiar! So very, very familiar. She wriggled about in response to it and willed herself to open her eyes; to hell with the darkness that confronted her daily! "Needle? Hey kid can you hear me?" It was Varric; her heart leapt with joy – she wasn't being reborn as a helpless baby! "Blondie you better get over here." Footsteps echoed around her yet again.

"She moving!" Anders voice rang out clearly, he sounded both excited and relieved.

"I better go get Hawke…and the broody elf." _The broody elf_. That was all it took, she forced her eyes open and almost immediately regretted it as she was greeted with a painful, blinding light.

"Shit…" She hissed in pain, her voice croaky and weak. Her entire body screamed in protest at being wrenched from its comfortable comatose state and back to the reality in which it was bruised and broken; she couldn't help but whimper.

"Not so fast Needle, you need to allow your eyes to adjust to the light…" Anders voice soothed her and she found herself breathing more evenly, he placed a hand over her eyes to shield them. "Open them now…" A darkness greeted her, but it was still brighter than where she had come from. Gradually he lifted his fingers from her eyes, letting in a little more light each time until he could remove his hand completely and she could see. Anders smiling face was staring down at her. "Welcome back to the world of the living."

"Where am I?" She groaned; she wanted water, her throat and mouth were both incredibly dry. Upon licking her lips she found them to be cracked and split. "Can I have some water?"

"Oh of course." Anders disappeared momentarily and reappeared with a ladle. "No clean cups." He apologised and helped her sit up slightly so she could sip at the ladle; water was such a magically refreshing substance. "And as for your previous question you're in my clinic in Darktown." Needled blinked and examined her surroundings properly, she was laid on a bed by a fire, wrapped in blankets; no wonder she had felt so warm and cosy.

"So…I'm not dead then?" Anders smiled at her and shook his head.

"Not today, you came very close though." She sighed a little and attempted to remove the covers so she could see the extent of her injuries. "What're you doing? Stop moving so much, your wounds might reopen!" Anders stilled her and she growled.

"What's the damage?"

"Nothing permanent, thank The Maker, other than scarring you should recover fine. _If you stop moving_." Needle stopped sneakily trying to edge her arm out of the covers and huffed. Scarring wasn't exactly a problem, she was hardly some rich nobles daughter who needed to appear pristine and perfect to attract a suitor. Speaking of attracting suitors…

"Oh no, oh no, no, no, no, no!" Needle suddenly began shaking her head vigorously.

"Needle what's wrong?" Anders squinted at her in concern; she had just remembered what had happened just before she passed out in the caves. "Ah Hawke!" She seized up and looked towards the doorway in unconcealed horror, Hawke stood there with a broad smile on his face and trailing behind him was…Fenris.

"Oh hell." Needle muttered to herself; she had only confessed because she had been certain she was about to _die_! Had she known she would survive the ordeal there was _no way_ she would have. With any luck he had forgotten about it, or perhaps he would put it down to her being delusional and on her deathbed; it was as good an excuse as any.

"Finally awake little one?" Hawke beamed at her and he made his way over, he crouched by her bed ruffled her hair gently. She managed to give him a weak smile in return; perhaps if _she_ pretended she didn't remember then everyone else would follow suit.

"So it would seem." Varric joined her by her bedside and Fenris lingered in the background, near but not overpowering.

"How're you feeling kid?" Varric asked.

"Sore, kinda like I just tried to take on a bunch of heavily armed guys by myself and ended up getting my ass handed to me." She joked, Varric chuckled in good humour and even Hawke smile, Fenris however looked mutinous.

"Why would you even do that Needle?" Hawke asked with a frown, "Are you-!"

"Completely out of your mind?" Fenris cut Hawke off and finally stepped forward; he hadn't raised his voice but Needle could tell he was angry. The quiet kind of anger that simmered away dangerously until it frothed over and burned everything. "Were you trying to _die_?" Needle groaned, suddenly wishing she had died so she didn't have to face his lecture.

"Of course not!" She tried her best to sit up but the bandages she was cocooned in coupled with the pain made it difficult. "I was just…" She wavered under his piercing green eyed gaze, "I wanted to prove I _belonged_ here! That I was actually useful and didn't need you constantly hovering around to protect me like some big scary bodyguard!" A dark look passed over his face and Needle felt dread settle in the pit of her stomach as he moved closer.

"Well you certainly proved that didn't you." He replied scathingly causing her to flinch.

"Hey, hey come on, the kid's had a rough enough time as it is she doesn't need this too." Varric jumped to her rescue, placing himself between her and Fenris; as if he would ever attack her. "And to be fair…she did kill them all." Needle beamed at Varric in thanks but Fenris' scowl only deepened.

"And nearly died in the process, _dwarf_ , or did you forget that?" Much to his credit, Varric didn't flinch under Fenris' menacing gaze, so Needle did so on his behalf.

"Enough!" Anders voice cut across both of them, he looked annoyed, "This is a place of rest and recuperation, both of which Needle sorely needs. If you can't wish her well _quietly_ then leave." Needle chewed her lip sheepishly, she had only been awake for a few minutes and already disharmony had spread through their group because of her. Perhaps she should have stayed unconscious; reality is never as good as you remember.

"Anders is right, Fenris this isn't why we came." Hawke's voice was reasonable but it did nothing to quell the elf's anger. Instead he turned on his heel and left, "Maker have mercy…" Hawke turned his gaze skyward in exasperation. "Sorry Needle, I'm glad you're awake at last." He went after Fenris' as damage control; for all the good it would do, leaving a stony silence in his wake.

"I'll go get fresh bandages…" Anders shook his head and wandered off leaving Needle feeling downcast.

"Don't feel too bad about that, you know what he's like." Varric took a seat beside her and she nodded with a half-hearted smile. It looked as though she wouldn't have to worry about her confession after all. "Our broody friend had been even broodier than usual while you've been out, I think he was worried but…you can never really tell with him."

"Worried? About me?" She looked at her dwarf friend in surprise; she knew he'd be angry but she had never considered the possibility he might be worried.

"Well it's not every day a girl confesses her love for you before passing out in a pool of her own blood." He pointed out with a raised brow, Needle felt the heat flood into her face and she chewed her lip. "You looked like a leaky pin cushion." He grumbled.

"I don't know what you mean." She replied in an unnaturally high voice, avoiding eye contact with Varric as best she could.

"Oh I'm _sure_ you don't." He chuckled at her obvious lie, "Well while you've got convenient amnesia I'm pretty sure he still remembers; you worried him and he's not the kind of guy who handles worry particularly well." His tone was light but she understood; this was her lecture. A gentle reminder that what she had done was reckless and had repercussions beyond her own injuries.

"Yeah, yeah I get it." She sighed, "I won't be attempting that again any time soon." She chewed on her lip and looked at Varric, "I suppose I should apologise huh?"

"To everyone." He nodded, "We were all worried about you kid."

"I'm sorry…" Her voice came out a lot quieter than she had intended; were people usually made to feel so bad for nearly dying, or was it just her friends 'quirky' way of showing they cared?

"I have bandages." Anders reappeared in the room carrying fresh linen with him, "Time to change."

"And that is my cue to leave." Varric stood, "When you're feeling better Needle you know where to find us." He gave her a wink and sauntered out, probably to return to The Hanged Man. Anders helped her sit up and gently began unwrapping her blood stained bandages.

"I'm sorry to you as well Anders." She sighed, "For keeping you so busy, there are plenty of people down here who really need your help without me running around Kirkwall getting hacked to pieces." Anders just smiled at her.

"I'm a healer Needle, no need to apologise…" It was a little embarrassing being in such a state of undress in front of him, she had to remind herself several times that he was serving her in a medical capacity and nothing more. "The only way _I w_ as put out is that you stole my bed." He mused, Needle stared at him in horror.

"Oh gods, I'm so sorry I'll move!" She tried to leap from the bed while still partially undressed and Anders restrained her with a stifled laugh.

"Calm yourself! That was of little consequence while I was treating you." Needle shook her head, she was truly an idiot.

"I'll move back to the Mansion with Fenris as soon as I can walk." She assured him settling back down.

"Are you sure that's wise?" He asked with a raised brow, she frowned.

"Why do you say that?" His expression suddenly shifted and he forced a smile with a slight shake of his head.

"No reason." Anders touch was gentle but removing the bandages was still a lengthy and painful process, Needle caught sight of some of her knife wounds and winced.

"Good thing I'm not vain." She joked; there was no doubt they'd leave some visible scars. "I'm an idiot." She slumped forward and ran a hand through her hair as the weight of her idiocy hit her like a ton of bricks. Anders placed a comforting hand between her shoulders to soothe her.

"It wasn't the most…inspired idea you've ever had." He conceded, "But you're by no means an idiot." Needle sniffled and glanced up at the handsome ex-warden; it was easy to see why he had a female following in Darktown. "And of course you belong here, even when you're doubting everything around you, never doubt that." His smile was charming and she felt herself smiling back, she could always count on Anders to pick her up while she was down.

"…I still feel like a colossal fool but thanks." She leaned in to hug him briefly; it hurt but she just about managed.

"Anytime Needle…" He grinned at her, "Though you should probably put your top back on, people will talk." Suddenly blushing as red as her hair, her arms flew to cover her chest protectively.

"R-right." Anders stifled a laugh and left her in peace to try and regain some of her dignity before she faced any more well-wishers. "What an almighty _tool_ I am."


	2. Confrontation

**A/N: I've had so many issues with the cover image for this story, it just keeps randomly disappearing; I've had to re-set it like 5 times now and I haven't the slightest clue _why._ Le sigh. Anywho, here's instalment two - I soon decided not to update when I do the other as I've not quite finished the new chapter for that yet but I do have this written.**

 _ **Enjoy.**_

* * *

It was several weeks after Needles 'accident' and she was sat with her group of companions at The Hanged Man enjoying some well-deserved alcohol, after a hard time tackling the Carta scum lurking in Darktown. She had apologised to everyone for her recklessness as soon as she was able, and it hadn't taken long for everything to settle back down into the usual routine; they spent their days keeping the streets of Kirkwall safe and they spent their nights getting sloshed at the tavern.

Everything should have been as it was before, except it was not.

Needle's declaration of love was now out there in the world and although no one spoke about it she _knew_ they all knew. Even more frustrating than this however, was the cold indifference with which her love interest was treating her. Fenris was not a warm man, she knew that, but before they had conversed often, she had never had to force the speech between them; now though she had to initiate nearly every conversation they had. The awkward atmosphere would not have been as much of an issue, except she lived with him. He didn't go out of his way to avoid her either; he just sat there broodily, seemingly quite at ease with the tense atmosphere.

"And I win _again_." Isabela sighed happily and raked in the winnings from the middle of the table causing Needle's mood to sour further. "Honestly sweetness your game is all over the place tonight, _something on your mind_?" Her tone was pointed and she shot a furtive glance in Fenris' direction; if he noticed he didn't comment on it. Needle however flushed angrily and slammed her cards down on the table, standing as she did so, causing the others to turn her way in either alarm

"Are you alright Needle?" Merrill asked her sweetly with wide eyes, Needle glanced at her sharply.

"Yes I…" She chewed her lip, thoroughly embarrassed by her overreaction. "I'm getting another drink, would you like one Merrill?" Merrill blinked at her, thrown off by her sudden question but she smiled benevolently non-the-less.

"Oh, no thank you, I'm quite alright with this one." Needle nodded, her mouth dry, and practically ran to the bar to avoid having to interact with anyone else, lest she subject them to a bout of verbal diarrhoea. Every time Fenris' was mentioned or hinted at in some romantic capacity she completely lost her cool, and 'cool' was not something she was greatly endowed with in the first place so the effect was quite disastrous. She didn't know where she stood any more, was his standoffish behaviour his way of showing that he did not, in any uncertain terms, reciprocate her feelings?

"Penny for your thoughts?" Needle jumped as Anders whispered over her shoulder, he smirked at her reaction and shifted onto the seat beside her.

"You don't want to know what I'm thinking, believe me." She shook her head but he continued gazing at her in interest, "I want to know why on earth I fell in love with an overly angsty elf, who spends his time divided between completely ignoring my existence and shoving his hand through people's chests." The look of surprise on Anders face almost made her laugh, almost. "Not the answer you were expecting?"

"I don't really know that I _had_ any expectation." He mused, "Though I have to agree with you, I don't know why either…you could do much better." She snorted at him and ordered a drink, "I'm serious." She turned to him with a look of exasperation on her face.

"Anders, I am 20 years old; I haven't grown since I was 13, and that it both in height and…" She grasped at her near-imaginary chest and continued, "I am an elf, an ex-slave with no real skill other than shoving pointy objects in bad people." Her gaze was level but he just looked amused, "I am _very_ ginger and I'm suffering from a rather severe case of freckles; currently I am being overlooked by all the men in this tavern, please tell me how I can do better?"

"You're selling yourself short!" She glared at his pun, "Even with all that you're still one of the best women I know…the other being currently married to the King of Ferelden." He suddenly placed his hand on her shoulder and they locked eyes. "And you're not being over-looked by _all_ the men in here." There was suddenly a strange tension between them that had not been present before; she wasn't certain what Anders was getting at but it was nice he was trying to make her feel better.

"Oh Anders, why couldn't I have fallen for you instead?" She sighed whimsically and took a swig of her newly arrived drink. A dark look passed over the mages face as he removed his hand and settled back into his seat.

"If it's any consolation I don't think that would have worked out any better." His sudden serious declaration took her by surprise; Ander had always been brilliant at throwing her off by being charming and carefree one minute then straight-faced and morose the next, "I like you far too much to put you through that." Needle didn't know what to say, she just carried on drinking with him until there was nothing left in her tankard to drink.

Then she ordered another.

* * *

Needle was drunk, she was very, _very_ drunk.

And Needle was _angry,_ boy was she angry.

The audacity of the man to treat her this way. Whether or not he returned her feelings it was no excuse to treat her as though she wasn't even a person - and she was going to confront him. She was going to confront him and give him a piece of her mind; her rather scattered drunken mind. "Going somewhere Broody?" hearing Varric's voice she spun on her stool and saw Fenris was about to leave.

"Home." He replied shortly, he made his way from their table and left.

"Right." She growled and slid from her perch, stumbling a little as she did. "Right." Her steps weren't quite steady, and she almost bumped into several unsavoury looking people on her way out. "Sorry…" She mumbled, finally finding the exit. As the air hit her she shivered, "Damn it's cold…now where'd that lanky piece of shit go?" Slowly Needle made her unsteady way from Lowtown to Hightown, if she didn't catch him on the way there she'd just have to catch him at the mansion. As she was making her way up the stairs to the market she felt arms grab her from behind and drag her back down, "W-what the hell?!" She was taken down an alley and shoved up against a wall.

"'Ello there darlin'." A tall human she didn't recognise had her held by the front of her shirt; he wore a leery expression and his breath stuck of alcohol, though Needle was sure hers would be no better. "You seemed to be 'avin trouble with the stairs there." She wiggled against his grip angrily.

"I was having no trouble with the stairs you stupid shem, now let me go!" There was a sharp pain across her face and it took a few seconds for her to realise he'd hit her. "Did you just _slap me_ you piece of shit?" She asked, shocked by his idiocy.

"You bet'cha I did ye mouthy little wench." Needle glowered at him; why had she left her daggers at the mansion? She knew it was dangerous at night. "How's about I teach ye some manners eh?" Just as he leaned in dangerously close the man stopped, a look of intense pain crossing his face as he let go of her shirt, causing her to fall to the floor in surprise.

"I don't think you will." Needle shuddered as she heard Fenris' growl from behind her assailant. "Go now, before I rip your heart from your chest." She realised he'd placed his hand through the back of the man, no wonder he'd looked so in pain. Once Fenris released him, he ran for his life back to Lowtown leaving them alone in the alley; Fenris did not offer her his hand to her so Needle scrambled up by herself, glaring at him through her messy copper hair. "Your stupidity never ceases to amaze me." He drawled, fixing his gaze on her.

"My stupidity huh?" She hiccoughed, glowering at him darkly.

"Yes your stupidity! Tell me woman do you _have_ a death wish? Or do you get some perverse joy from wandering these crime infested streets unarmed?" Had she not been drunk Needle would have flinched at his tone and backed down; accepting that he was right and she was wrong. But alas, she was drunk, and tonight she wouldn't be backing down. Her bottled up rage exploded inside her.

"I may be stupid but at least I'm not a coward!" She prodded him in the chest and the look on his face filled her with satisfaction.

"A cowa-!"

"Yes you heard me! If someone told me they loved my I'd have the decency to at least _respond_! I wouldn't run away and ignore them, whether I returned their feelings or not!" She balled her fists as she looked at him.

" _Love?_ What would you know of it?" Fenris sneered; her victorious expression suddenly took a confused turn, "One moment you're confessing to me, the next you're throwing yourself at the _mage_." Needle blinked at him, there was so much venom in his words but she didn't understand them. Was it because she was intoxicated, or had she missed some essential part of the conversation?

"I haven't a clue what you're ranting about." She told him, folding her arms across her chest.

" _I saw you_." He growled, "In the clinic, after I left…I came back to…apologise." His frown deepened, "I wish I hadn't bothered."

"I still don't have a clue what you're talking about Fenris." Her patience was wearing thin and she was still no closer to understanding him.

"I saw you, half-naked, throwing yourself at him!" Despite herself, she flushed.

"Are you sure that was me? That doesn't sound like me…" Fenris suddenly grabbed the front of her shirt and pushed her back against the wall she had previously been pinned to. "Hey!"

"Do not test me woman." His face was almost as dangerously close as her assailants had been, and while she knew she should be scared she was more excited at the contact. Perhaps he'd been right in implying she got a perverse joy from danger.

Needle narrowed her eyes and thought back; suddenly the scenario he was referring to was thrust to the forefront of her mind and she almost rolled her eyes. "I _hugged_ him yes, I kind of forgot I wasn't wearing much since he was changing my bandages but that's all." Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest and his expression changed; for a moment she was worried he didn't believe her, but he released her. Needle was a little disappointed, it was the most contact she'd had with him in a while. "There's nothing more to it." She shrugged.

"Nonsense." He scoffed suddenly turning away, "You're always together, _canoodling_."

At the word 'canoodling' Needle snorted in laughter and found herself unable to stop, Fenris turned to look at her angrily, "You're crazier than I thought." She shook her head and walked towards him and he eyed her warily. "Are you…jealous of me and Anders?" He flinched away from her.

"Jealous of a mage? Of an _abomination_? "

"No, not of the mage, of his imagined relationship with me." Needle had never been happier to have drunk so many tankards of The Hanged Mans ale; had she been sober this conversation would have gone very differently. Fenris looked at her sternly for a second before his face relaxed.

"You're drunk." He commented.

"A little." She conceded with a nod, "The fresh air's helped…but that doesn't mean what I'm saying isn't true, does it?" She took another step towards him and this time he didn't flinch away.

"No I suppose it doesn't." A barely visible smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he looked at her, "So you _'love me'_ do you?"

Needle huffed and blushed a little, "Guess I do." She rested the palm of her hand on his chest and look up at him, "The question _now_ is what're you gonna do about it?" There were a few moments of nothing, a silence passed between them and neither said nor did anything; then before she could react she was pressed back up against the wall from before, only this time there was no longer any distance between their faces. Countless times Needle had imaged being kissed by Fenris', but of course nothing quite compared to the real thing; and having never been kissed before she didn't really have anything to base her imaginary kisses on. It was rough and it was frenzied…it was very _Fenris_. Though she did wish there were something a little more comfortable than a stone wall behind her; while there was a certain appeal in the idea of being pushed up against a wall in an intimate setting, the reality was much less comfortable. When he finally stopped his assault on her mouth, Needle gasped for air.

"Sorry…" He mumbled, though a clear smile playing about his mouth showed the insincerity behind his words. He propped himself against the wall with one arm, and with his other hand Fenris brushed Needle's unruly hair from her face; it was an oddly tender action and her blush was evident even in the dim light of the alley.

"It's fine." She managed to squeak eventually, "There's just…more to it than I thought there'd be." At Fenris' raised brow, she elaborated, "Well, you have to move your head and…various other parts as well as remembering to breathe…and control said breathing through your nose…I've never done it before!" She rambled, blurting out the last part; his gaze turned from surprised to surprisingly soft and he ran his thumb across her bottom lip, causing her to gulp involuntarily. Needle glanced up and saw he was looking down at her intently and she couldn't look away.

"That is a surprise…" She almost snorted, but that would certainly have ruined the atmosphere between them.

"You know Anders said something similar earlier, I'm not exactly a catch…" She trailed off upon seeing the darkness that crossed his face at the mention of Anders name; so much for not ruining the atmosphere.

"What did the _mage_ say exactly? Please tell me _more_." His growl was particularly vicious and Needle chewed her lips nervously; why did she always end up saying the wrong thing?

"N-nothing…" Needle found her Dutch-courage rapidly disappearing as she stared into the angry face of the homicidal elf, she wanted to kick herself - obviously bringing up Anders was a mistake! Fenris looked away and she shuffled nervously; not worried he'd hurt her, she knew he'd never do that, but worried she'd put their relationship back where it was before. "Fenris?" She spoke his name quietly and he looked back at her.

A tense few seconds passed before his posture relaxed and he stood up straight, putting space between them once again. "Let's go." He turned around and headed back up the alley, Needle fretted for a few seconds before hurrying after him. The remainder of the journey was carried out in silence, she wanted to speak but she couldn't think; what could she possibly say to him to set things back to how they were before she mentioned that accursed mage. Upon reaching the mansion they both entered and Fenris locked the door behind them, to ensure no thugs broke in while they slept; though if they did it'd probably end badly for them rather than the inhabitants. They ascended the stairs in silence and headed for their separate rooms, before she entered however Needle spun on her heel to face him, "Fenris…" He glanced at her, face unreadable. "I'm…sorry?" It definitely came out more like a question than she intended.

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Telling you?" He looked at her flatly, "Telling you." She nodded to affirm her statement.

"What for?" At that Needle tilted her head; what _was_ she sorry for exactly? She hadn't even done anything wrong, he was just so _touchy_.

"I don't know." She admitted with a frown, "It just seemed like the right thing to say…and you spoke to me at last so it must have been." At that, he frowned.

"I had nothing to say." She blinked at him.

"You're…kidding right? We just got all cosy up against a stone wall, then you storm off like some hormonal, pubescent _boy_ and I'm supposed to believe you just had nothing to say?" He had the decency to look uncomfortable at her words; she ran a hand through her hair and looked away, tiredly. "Whatever, I'm going to sleep, night." She turned away and opened her door, as she walked in and gently closed it behind her she could have sworn she heard a very soft 'Goodnight Needle'.


	3. Conclusion

**A/N: The Final instalment...dun dun duuuuuun! I honestly really enjoyed writing this, Quintessential can get a bit _intense_ and this was a lovely light-hearted break. Apart from the near-death at the beginning. I hope you enjoy it :)**

* * *

A week after Needle's 'alley incident' with Fenris nothing much had changed between them; he seemed a little softer with her – though softer may not have been the right word for it – but that was all. There had been no more surprisingly rough kisses, no more honest drunken chats, nothing; Needle was reaching the end of her patience with him. Of course _she c_ ould try initiate something but she had a terrible habit of becoming tongue tied whenever she tried. Needle decided it was probably time to bring in outside help with the situation; that is why she was currently in Isabela's room at The Hanged Man with Merrill and said pirate trying on clothes. Although she wasn't entirely certain _why_ she was trying on clothes. "Isabela…I needed advice on Fenris not what to wear." She complained, as Isabela held up a low cut tight shirt against her scrawny frame.

"Oh sweetness you need advice on both." The curvaceous pirate ran her hands through Needles coppery hair and pulled it up into a twist. "Have you ever thought about wearing your hair up? He always struck me as the sort that'd appreciate a nice neck…he looks like he bites." Needle shimmied out of her friend's lascivious grasp and turned to face her and Merrill from a safer distance.

"Come _on_ this is driving me crazy!" She threw her hands up in exasperation and blew a strand of hair from her face, "Though maybe wearing it up wouldn't be such a bad idea…" She sank to the floor with a sigh and Merrill petted her head comfortingly.

"Now, now Needle, I'm such between us we can come up with something!" Merrill offered brightly. Needle looked from her naïve elven friend who was no better than she, to the scantily clad seductress who had successfully slept with half of Kirkwall; from one extreme to the other. The only other woman she knew was Aveline, and she highly doubted any advice she had on the subject would be helpful; she couldn't threaten Fenris into liking her back.

"This is hopeless." Isabela threw another outfit at her and tapped her boot.

"Nonsense!" She reached for Needles hand and Needle allowed herself to be pulled up and thrust before a dirty mirror, "All we have to do is make you look _irresistible_!" Needle pulled a face in the mirror.

"Oh is that _all_?" She eyed the garment Isabela was pressing against her form, it was deep green in colour and had a corset-like fixture around the waist to pull it in; it was long but there was a split up the length of it finishing at the hip and it too was low cut. As was everything Isabela owned. "Isabela I don't know if you've noticed but not everyone in this room is as well-endowed as you." She said pointedly.

"Hush now, you don't have to be we can work around that." Isabela grazed her fingers across her neck once again and she lifted it off her shoulders. "What do you think Kitten, up or down?" Merrill eyed both styles 'critically'.

"Up! I think…you're right about the neck thing." The brunette flushed at her own words, as did Needle while Isabela just smiled at them devilishly at them both in the mirror.

"Fantastic." Isabela purred, "We will make you irresistible." She locked eyes with Needle through the mirror, and at the young elf's worried expression, her smile grew larger, "But the rest is up to you." Merrill grabbed her hand comfortingly and smiled.

" _Oh joy."_

* * *

"Needle you look lovely." Merrill chirped from beside her; Isabela had decided to dress up Merrill as well, so it was less obvious what they were trying to do. Needle was not so certain 'lovely' was the word she'd use to describe her current appearance; Isabela had pulled in her waist and stuffed her chest so much she was scared to bend over, lest the maids discover where all their washcloths had disappeared to.

"I feel like a clown." She grumbled, attempting to wipe the red stain from her lips, "Isabela was all this necessary?" Isabela glanced her way and shrugged.

"Maybe not, but you're dressed now." Needle glared at her and tugged at the outfit self-consciously. At least none of her scars were visible, it was strange how a dress managed to cover so much and yet still be so shamelessly revealing at the same time. "Ladies, it's time." Isabela lead the way from her room and Needle and Merrill trailed behind her, not quite as keen to face the taverns patrons yet.

Merrill grabbed Needles hand and squeezed reassuringly. "You do look lovely." Needle couldn't help but smile; Merrill was the lovely one, not her.

"Thanks Merrill, you too." Merrill beamed at her, "Let's just hope it isn't too effective or he'll be getting a hand full of fabric." She muttered, readjusting her chest. Merrill giggled and Needle tried not to feel too nauseated as they left the comfort of Isabela's cramped room. She had never even _worn_ a dress before, let alone one quite so overtly feminine; she tried to copy Isabela's sultry walk but only managed to appear as though she had a bad leg and a limp. "Oh Maker preserve me." She growled as the all descended the stairs; of course most of the men turned to gaze at Isabela as they always did when she entered the tavern, she owned them all the instant she set foot there. Needle had no such confidence, instead all she could claim was a dry mouth, a fake chest and a limp.

"Well, well Rivaini, don't _you_ look surprisingly clean this evening." Varric's jokey voice alerted her to the presence of their companions, and Isabela sauntered over to them to take a seat beside the hairy dwarf.

"I'm _always_ clean Varric." Under everyone's scrutinous gazes she relented with a sigh, "Usually."

"Sure you are…you playing dress up?" He eyed Merrill and Needle who were still hovering under the archway looking at everyone with mortified expressions, "Is that _all_ you did? They look horrified." Isabela beckoned them over and they both made their way woodenly to the table, Needle made certain to purposely avoid Fenris' gaze; though the fact it was on her at all made her heart beat wildly in her chest. "Daisy, Kid, you two look…nice." Needle rewarded his half-compliment with a painful smile so obviously forced that made him choke on his ale. "Fancy a drink Kid?" She nodded numbly and rose from her seat to follow Varric to the bar. "You alright? You look like you're sat on something sharp."

Needle sighed, "I'm having second thoughts about this whole…dress-up nonsense." She pointed at her dress and Varric raised a brow as he ordered her a drink.

"Yeah, it's not like you…what's going on?"

"Let's just call it an ill-advised attempt to woo our broody friend." She sighed, "I feel like an ass."

"Well if it's any consolation you don't look like one." She turned to Varric and he held a tankard up to her with a smile, "And I'm pretty sure he's noticed…" Needle suddenly stiffened and Varric's smile grew. "He's been staring at you even more than usual." They started to return to the table when Needle grabbed his arm.

"He stares at me?" Varric looked at her like she was stupid.

"Are you _blind_?" Needle risked a glance at Fenris and saw that he was indeed looking at her, his gaze so intense she was forced to look away almost immediately; a rosey hue graced her cheeks. "By the way…" Varric paused mid-step and Needle looked down at him. "Where did _they_ come from?" He gazed at her pointedly and Needle felt her face burn.

"They came courtesy of lots stuffing and fabric…" Varric chuckled and shook his head, "Hey it wasn't my idea!" He took a seat back at the table and Needle sat opposite him.

"Now that I can believe." Varric chuckled.

As the evening wore on Needle grew more comfortable in the outfit, she was almost certain she had heard Fenris growl when Anders and Hawke complimented her, and it definitely made her happier than it should have. Perhaps Isabela had been right after all; though he was sat at the opposite end of the table, so she wasn't able to speak to him. The first one to retreat was Aveline as she wanted to get back to Donnic before it got too late; Needle had drank her share and upon catching Fenris' fiery gaze once again, she decided it was time to go.

"Ah I think I'll go too then." She stood, attempting to appear as nonchalant as possible. "I'll give you this back at some point." She told Isabela, the pirate waved her off.

"Keep it sweetness, it looks better on you anyway."

"I find that hard to believe…but thanks." She had grown fond of the dress over the past few hours, it was now the only feminine garment she owned. Pants and shirts were just much more practical in fights, she often marvelled at Isabela's outfit and how she was able to move so freely in it…though it didn't consist of much. "I'll see you all tomorrow." As she turned to go Fenris downed his wine and also stood.

"I take it that's my cue?" Needle flushed angrily and folded her arms.

"Do whatever you want!" She stomped off stubbornly towards the door and left. He didn't have to ask her so openly in front of everyone! Whether _she had_ intended for him to walk her home or not. "Idiot." She didn't bother waiting for him and started on her way back to Hightown; at least if she was attacked she had her hand needles with her tonight. The tiny red-head hadn't gotten very far before she was grabbed from behind and dragged down a dark alleyway; oddly enough she was almost certain it was the same alley she was almost assaulted in the previous week. She was pressed up against the wall, a hand over her mouth to prevent her from calling out for Fenris…she struggled until she locked eyes with her 'attacker' and realised it _was_ Fenris. He removed his hand from her mouth and instead took her chin between his forefinger and thumb. "F-Fenris! What are you doing? You scared the crap out of me…" Needle let out a sigh of relief and he smirked down at her.

"I'm sorry I thought you enjoyed being roughed up in alleyways…" His tone was sultry and his gaze did nothing to slow her startled heart.

The young woman gazed at him, unsure of how to respond. "W-well I-!" Before she could muster a reply his mouth was upon hers in a kiss equally as ferocious as the one they had shared the previous week, and her reply quite literally died in her mouth. In fact, nearly all of Needle's coherent thoughts completely vacated her head. Thankfully, this time she knew what to expect and was able to respond accordingly; she tilted her head correctly and ran her hands through his hair thoroughly enjoying the moment. It was at that point Fenris' hands began to wander, innocently enough at first…one hand moved from her hair to her face and lightly stroked along her neck while the other tightened around her waist possessively; it felt damn good. It was as the hand on her neck made its way _lower_ that Needle regained some form of higher mental functioning; she realised that if his hand met its intended destination all Fenris would be receiving a handful of was _lies._ Filthy, washcloth shaped lies. Suddenly she broke off the kiss to allow herself to breathe and Fenris growled, disgruntled at the interruption. "Oh stop growling, you're not a mabari." She huffed.

"Why stop? I believe the entire point of this evening and…" His green eyed gazed trailed down quite obviously at her form, "…ensemble was to get my attention was it not?" Fenris' breathing was not quite as heavy as hers, but even hearing him _slightly_ breathless because of her gave her satisfaction.

She glanced up at him coyly through her eyelashes, as Isabela had shown her. "You noticed…"

Fenris hadn't yet relinquished his grip on her waist, "I did. You have my attention Needle, now stop toying with it." She shivered slightly and looked around, she removed one of her hands from his hair and moved to gentle stroke his jaw; she was pleased he didn't seize up at the touch.

"Well, while being assaulted by you against a wall in some dingy back alley isn't d _elightful_ -!"

"I would _hardly_ class this as assault." He objected, lowering his face and grazing his nose against her earlobe. His surprising actions drew a small yelp from her lips and she could hear his quiet laughter rumble through his chest.

"Maybe not." She conceded, "But I would like to change the venue…" Fenris paused in his ear onslaught and looked at her, "The mansion would be considerably more comfortable than this…" Needle didn't have to say anything else, in a flash Fenris was off her and had her hand in his own so he could drag her back to the mansion. Her plan had worked, but she still needed to find some way of removing padding from her chest…she just hoped he wasn't too disappointed with the truth; she knew she would be in his place.

The journey back to the mansion was a blur, she barely took in her surroundings, keeping her eyes securely fixed on Fenris' form as he lead the way back; even from behind he looked _enticing_. Perhaps if she was careful now she could safely remove them without him noticing… "Home sweet home." Fenris' deep voice broke her from her train of thought and she looked around frantically; they were back already. Needle opened her mouth but was quickly thrown off balance as her broody elf grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder, making his way up the stairs and into his room.

"F-Fenris?" He hmmm'd in response, "I can walk you know." She was suddenly taken off his shoulder and thrown back down; luckily she collided with something very soft. Fenris' bed. Wide eyed she looked up at him and saw he was gazing back at her with an almost predatory look on his face.

"Oh, I know." Fenris grinned at her and joined her on the bed, creeping closer and holding eye contact as he did. Needle couldn't decide if the action excited or disturbed her, but either way she was completely mesmerised; frozen in place by that intense green-eyed gaze. "You look like a startled deer…" He murmured sounding more than a little amused.

"You look like a starved wolf." She responded, eyeing him warily as he inched ever closer.

A smile stretched across the elf's face; he was finally so close their noses touched, "Now that you mention it…" He pushed Needle back and hovered over her, "I am feeling rather _hungry_." And in a flash the earlier onslaught continued. Needle had to admit that being in their house and on a bed made a difference, a much comfier difference; now his roughness was curbed by the soft mattress beneath her, now she eagerly gave in to his advances and lost herself beneath him. Once again she knotted her hands through his soft snowy hair and tried to lift herself slightly, to press herself against him more; Fenris responded by wrapping her leg around him and keeping his hand fixed on her behind to ensure she stayed there. Needle was, after all, a rather tiny little thing. Needle allowed her free hand to wander down his chest, looking for some sort of opening so she could remove his infernal armour – at that moment he was far too clothed for her liking. He paused mid kiss as she clawed futilely at him and smirked lazily at her; he sat up and easily removed it. "Better?" He asked.

Needle's eyes raked over his half naked form greedily, she had seen him shirtless a few times after battle, washing blood off in rivers and such, but never had she viewed him in such excruciating detail; his chiselled form only accentuated by the lyrium markings burned into his skin. Fenris may have hated them, but that didn't mean they weren't beautiful. Of course, him hovering over her in all his broody perfection was also an added bonus. "Seven hells, perfect…" She reached up to grab him and pull him back down onto her, she could feel him smiling even as they kissed. He moved his mouth from hers, earning a small noise of disappointment from her until he replaced it on her neck; first a kiss, then a nip before he bit down experimentally and her noise of disapproval very quickly became one of approval instead. So Isabela had been right after all; he did bite. A hand travelled up her leg, tickling slightly as it brushed at the bare skin until finally reaching its destination and reaffirming its grip on her behind. With his other hand, Fenris brushed his fingertips against the revealed skin on her upper half; lightly grazing her collar bones until travelling down in search of a more satisfying treasure. Needle half groaned in anticipation as his fingers skimmed across the top of her chest; the groan was taken as encouragement and Fenris' hand wandered further into the chest area of her dress until…

The elder elf pulled away in confusion and Needle glanced up in irritation, until she saw the cause of the abrupt end of their dalliance. In his hand he held the end of a cloth that was coming out of the top of her dress, the red-head felt the colour drain from her face and watched on in horror as Fenris tugged on the cloth, only to be presented with more cloths tied together, vacating her dress. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to tie them to the ceiling rafters and hang herself. It was like watching some perverse magic show go terribly awry before her eyes. "What on earth is this?" Fenris asked her, once he'd reached the tragic climax of the strange interruption.

Needle opened her mouth but she couldn't summon any words to follow. How was she supposed to explain to the painfully attractive man on top of her why she was carrying all The Hanged Man's washcloths in her bosom? "I umm…oh Maker." She hid her face in her hands to hide her shame.

"Needle?" His voice was oddly lulling, but still held a question she wasn't sure how to answer.

She took a deep breath before she attempted to explain, "I'm not particularly well endowed and the dress was so low cut – I had nothing to fill it with! So…Isabela filled it for me." She wailed tragically from behind her small hands, "I didn't expect things to go so far…" Her admission was met with a thoughtful silence until she felt her hands being tugged away from her face; Fenris looked amused.

"You are a very peculiar woman."

"I know." She sighed and closed her eyes.

"I believe that's one reason I'm so fond of you…" Her eyes fluttered open and she sat up quickly.

"You wh-!" A quick kiss cut off her questioning, though she couldn't honestly say she was too disappointed. "You don't mind?" She asked, nodding to the cloth he still held in his hands.

"Needle, I've seen you in varying states of undress over the years, I'm under no illusion that you're _well endowed._ " He pointed out bluntly; she flushed in embarrassment. For once she wished he would be a little gentler with the truth. Fenris suddenly threw the cloths over his shoulder and placed one hand on either side of her waist, effectively pinning her to the spot beneath him. "Now, where were we…" He pretended to be thoughtful for a second before his eyes lit up as he gazed down at her nervous, deflated form. "Ah, I believe I was undressing you."

Needle could never be certain how she had done it; how she had gone from dying in a cavern and delusionally confessing her love to a man she was certain she would never love her back, to being pinned beneath him in nothing but the clothes she was born in. It was madness, it was confusing…it was bliss. And she was going to enjoy every sinful minute of it.

* * *

" _So…I hear you're pretty_ _ **fond**_ _of me." Fenris very nearly rolled his eyes at the teasing voice of his lover laid on his chest. "So_ _ **fond**_ _all it took was me in a low cut dress to finally get you to fu-!" He rolled on top of her and kissed her, hoping to shut her up; Maker knew he loved her but she spoke far too much._

… _he loved her._

 _He_ _ **loved**_ _her!_

 _The realisation washed over him quickly, but at the same time he realised something else; possibly even more valuable._

" _Y'know I'm so glad to hear you're_ _ **fond**_ _of me Fenris, it fills me with joy."_

" _I am. Very fond. In fact, I suppose I should be saying…I love you too." He manoeuvred so his lips were by her ear for added impact. Needle suddenly gazed up at him with what could only be described as absolute awe on her face; she opened and closed her mouth several times before she settled instead on simply snaking her arms around him tightly and nuzzling her face into her neck. Now that was far more agreeable than listening to her relentless chatter post-intercourse._

 _And so the real victor of the evening's events turned out not to be Needle for successfully seducing the man she loved and finding he loved her in return, it was Fenris, for finally silencing his red-headed lover. The thought brought a self-satisfied smile to his lips, as did the feeling of her mouth against his neck. Fenris was the winner._

 _For the time being anyway…_


End file.
